Wednesday, April 11

Cigarettes and Coffee

Cigarette. Coffee. Work. Repeat.
With every nicotine filled breath,
I feel my heart increase in its beat.

They're slowly killing me, and I know that.
But how different is it really,
Than these photos of you I keep looking at?

Up I look and see this cherry blossom tree.
However it is its reflection that haunts
These murky waters, as if it is looking at me.

Somehow, it makes me think of you.
It makes me realise that I'm so lost.
That you moved on and left me here ...
... confused, angry and lonely at most.

This fag is finished, but now what?
Something is missing, but I am not sure,
Back to work so early? Definitely not.

I feel drowsy, tired and sleepy ...
I get a coffee from the shop next door,
Where they probably think I'm creepy.

There is little left for me to do.
Focus on work they usually say,
But nothing makes me feel less blue.

And for a change, it is raining again.
With this, gone is the reflection of this tree.
I am left with only one thought in my brain ...
... did I really have to meet you, that day by the sea?

- "Cigarettes and Coffee", Bremen, Germany. April 2018

Friday, March 16

Alone in the Snow

How did I get here?
I'm in the midst of all this ice and snow.
All alone, far from everything,
And yet, I still feel exposed and on show.

I see these endless plains,
Dotted only with a few trees.
Covered in snow, chest deep,
And on my face this cold breeze.

Three months ago
I seriously did not think of this,
And now that I am here
It is you, that I will surely miss,

- "Alone in the Snow", Kiruna, Sweden. March 2018

Monday, February 19

Tgħid id-Dinja Tisbieħ?

B'żumbett wara l-ieħor,
f'għajnejja d-dinja forsi tisbieħ.
Iżda jiena dejjem hawn
U bil-mod il-mod, naħseb qed niblieh ...

- "Tgħid id-Dinja Tisbieħ?", Birmingham, UK. Frar, 2018

Wednesday, October 25

Il-Ġamra f’Tarf iż-Żumbett

Ħafna sibna ruħna fis-sitwazzjoni li ninsab bħalissa fiha jien. Il-ħajja taf tkun iebsa għal-kulħadd, speċjalment meta naslu għal-kwistjonijiet tal-qalb. B’qasma ta’ qalb, ikolli ngħidlek li ninsab f’sitwazzjoni minn dawn.

Tal-għaġeb kif kull relazzjoni, għalumenu naħseb jien, tixbaħ lil dak iż-żumbett li xi ħadd minn sħabek offrielek xi darba jew oħra. Dejjem titfaċċa opportunita, u jibda kollox meta xi ħabib jew ġabiba, jintefa irembel dak iż-żumbett, jekk ikun f’nofs ta’ xi festin bejn ħbieb ta’ ġewwa, f’xi flett żgħir, f’daħna ta’ sigaretti u mużika ta’ Gigi D’Agostino, qalb l-għajjat fis-saħna tal-argumenti; jekk ukoll ikun f’nofs ta’ party qawwi ġewwa l-Liquid, techno biss. U, inkunu qegħdin nigdbu, jekk niċħdu li ma jkunx iħajjrek. Bl-istess mod, jekk hux wiċċ imb’wiċċ waqt li qiegħed tistenna dik il-birra kiesġa li tkun ordnajt, jew fuq l-Internet, jekk hux Tinder jew Facebook jew Instagram, it-tnejn li aħna rajna dik it-tfajla ġustuża, li mil-ewwel mument kif rajnieha, għedna f’qalbna “Illostja x’naghmillha!”. U hemm aħna, bħaż-żumbett, nibdew b’dik ix-xewqa għal dak li għadna m’aħniex ċerti rriduhx.

U kif dik il-birra tinżel għasel, u moħħok jibda jgħid, “U iva, tgħid nieħu nifs minn li qiegħed irembel Steve?”, bl-istess mod waqt li tkun qiegħed tħares darbtejn, hekk hux ma dak il-bar, jew waqt li tistalkja fuq Facebook, taħseb, “Tgħid nibgħatilha xi ħaġa?”. F’tebqa t’għajn, issib ruħħek tibgħatilha messaġġ, bl-istess mod kif bla ma tkun indunajt, kif Pietru joffrielek nifs, ma tgħidx le.

Minn dak il-mument kif taqgħa għat-tentazzjoni, tibda sewwa l-analoġija tiegħi kif relazzjoni, l-imħabba, hija bħaż-żumbett. Minn dak il-mument, tkun xegħelt iż-żumbett, u issa, flimkien, ħa nsegwu dik il-ġamra. Tieħu l-ewwel nifs, u ovvjament li tgawdih, bħal dik it-tbissima li ttik dik it-tfajla meta tieħu ċans u tgħidilha “Hello ...”. Pero, bħal ġamra fit-tarf ta’ dak il-kanun zgħir, dak huwa l-ewwel pass fir-relazzjoni, li ma tirrealizzax biha, għax lanqas biss tkun ħsibt fuqha.

Is-sentiment huwa wiħed tal-ġenn. U għalekk wara ftit, tieħu t-tieni nifs, dik il-ġamra, bdiet dieħla l-ġewwa tul iż-żumbett. U avolja ma tagħtix kas, dak iż-żumbett ikun qabad jiqsar. U meta thoss il-mowbajl jivvibra, u tinduna li hi qabdet tirrispondik lura għal-messaġġi, tkun elat, u titla’ waħda sas-seba’ sema. Tibgħat lura, imma ngħiduha kif inhi, riskju, għax ma tafx hux ha tibgħatlek lura. Bl-istess mod, dak il-kanun tqassmu lil Pietru fuq in-naġa l-oħra, bla ma taf meta ha jiġi lura. Taqsam dik il-ġonta, u bis-saħħa ta’ tnejn min-nies, u iktar, il-ġamra tibda dieħla sew il-ġewwa, iżda tibqa’ ma tagħtix kas. Tibqgħu tibgħatu lil xulxin, u wara ftit toħorġu, forsi għal-darba tnejn. U bis-saħħa tat-tnejn li intom, ir-relazzjoni tibda’ dieħla l-ġewwa ġmielha. B’nifs ieħor smoke, l-istess bħal meta tbusek kif tisbenaħ ħdejk f’soddtok, tħossok tinqata’ minn saqajk u titla f’ġenna tal-art.

Qalb il-paroli u d-diskussjonijiet, dik il-ġonta tkun qabdet tiqsar, u il-ġamra forsi anke xi darba ntfiet u xi ħadd kellu jerġgħa jqabbdu. Toħorġu, tieħdu gost flimkien, u wara ftit, issib ruħħek għandek tfajla. U l-ġamra f’tarf iż-żumbett ġieli ntfiet, u terġgħa tixgħelu, bħal kif ġieli tiġġieldu, u avolja taħseb li kwazi spiċċa kollox fix-xejn, b’xi mod terġgħa tixgħal dik il-fjamma.

Iżda hemmek tinduna, li dak iż-żumbett wasal biex jispiċċa, meta tħoss dik in-naqra ħarqa tal-ġamra kif tibda riesqa lejn subgħajk. L-istess magħha, tinduna li l-konverżazzjoni ta’ issa ma għadiex bħal dik ta’ qabel, dik li kienet tant telak fil-bidu. Tibda tħoss xi ħaġa differenti, ċertu sens ta’ diżappunt, u forsi anka ħarira biża’ għax taf li qiegħed joqrob it-tmiem. Tinduna li dik il-ġonta waslet biex tispiċċa, u hekkel, qisu terġgħa tiġi naqra f’tiegħek.

Meta jkun spiċċa ta’ veru, u fadallek biss ir-rawċ imqabbad ħarira f’idek, tgarah l’hemm, jew mal-art jew forsi f’dak l-ashtray, maħmuġ sebgħa pesti, ħdejn dak il-biċċa speaker waqt il-festin fil-flett li semmejna qabel. Hemmek, f’dak il-mument, xi ħadd minnkom jiddeċiedi li aħjar tieqfu, jew għallinqas, tieħdu dak in-naqra żmien il-bogħod minn xulxin. Insomma, il-verita hi li bġal ma dak iz-zumbett spiċċa, l-istess kienet dik ir-relazzjoni tant għal-qalbek.

...

Iżda ma tieqafx hemm. Tixtieq li tieqaf hemm. Tgħid lil kulħadd li fkollox xorta baqa’ miexi fuq ir-rubini u għaddielek. Imma fil-verita ma tkunx. U hemmek, jien u niċassa naqa moħħi mifqugħ, inħares lejn ir-rawċ, lejn dik il-ġamra għadha ddaħħan ... nsaqsi lili nnifsi, “Meta ha tintefa?”

Monday, October 2

Għall-erwieħ!

Minn meta kont għadni tifel kelli influwenza kbira Taljana fuqi. Kbirt, bħal ħafna tfal tampari minn-naħa t'isfel ta' Malta, mhux f'ħafna lussu. Peress li cable ma konniex nifilħu nħallsu għalih, kont nara ħafna televiżjoni taljana li konna naqbdu dak iż-żmien bl-aerial minn Sqallija. U bejn Rai Uno u Rai Due, u l-istazzjonijiet tal-Mediaset, fl-imkien mal-La 7 u Antenna Sicilia, jiena qattajt tfuliti nara films, aħbarijiet u programmi bit-taljan. Tant li meta kont għadni ta' eta zgħira ħafna, kont diġa kapaċi nitkellem bit-taljan xi ftit jew wisq.

Meta qbadt nikber, u kont għamilt ħbieb minn barra r-raħal, kont indunajt li mhux kulhadd kien bħali, kapaċi ħafna iktar bit-Taljan u il-Malti milli bil-Malti u Ingliż. Kont qbadt niltaqgħa ma' żgħażagħ ohrajn, li llum huma ħbieb mil-akbar tiegħi, li t-Taljan ma kienux jafuh. Dan bejn għax trabbew fin-naħa ta' fuq ta' pajjiżna, fejn minn dejjem konna nafuhom b'tal-pepe u li jippreferu jitkellmu bl-Ingliż ħalli iħossuhom mil-ohrajn, u bejn għax kienu kibru jaraw televiżjoni differenti minn dik li kont imdorri nara jien, u sħabi tan-naħa tisfel.

L-istorja ta' pajjiżi dejjem affaxxinatni ħafna, u minn dejjem kont ninteressa ruħi fuq x'kien ġara fi kwalunkwe post storiku kont insib ruħi fih. Eventwalment, kont smajt bil-kwistjoni politika li kienet inqalghet f'Malta fit-tieni nofs tas-seklu dsatax, u kompliet kibret fil-bidu tas-seklu għoxrin. Dien kienet, ovvjament, il-kwistjoni tal-lingwi uffi1jali ta' pajjiżna. Il-Maltin ta' dak iż-żmien, kif ukoll il-mexxejja tagħhom, kienu riedu li jibqgħa jiġi imgħallem u użat it-Taljan bħala l-lingwa uffiċjali ta' pajjiżna. Iżda billi konna kolonja Ingliża, u dawn riedu jużgħaw lil Malta bħala mezz ta' propoaganda biex iżidu l-influwenza Ingliża fil-Mediterran, ovvjament dawn riedu illi l-Ingliż jieħu post it-Taljan bħala lingwa ufficjali ta' pajjiżna.

Milux, bejn għax inżilt waħda sa Malta għal-festa tar-raħal, u bejn għax issa ilni tliet snin nieqes minn pajjiżna, qbadt inħoss ċertu sens ta' patrijottiżmu dejjem jikber bil-mod il-mod għal-pajjiżna. Erġajt qbadt napprezza il-kultura tagħna iktar minn qatt qabel, u sirt nibqa affaxxinat kemm kemm nimxi fit-toroq ta' Malta, napprezza l-ġahwar arkitetturali li ħallewlna missirijietna. Ma għenx il-fatt li qrajt il-ktieb Rokit, ta' Lorrane Vella, li alkemm huwa eċċellenti u għoġobni ħafna, jiddeskrivi xeni ta' Malta f'futur ipotetiku (li nittama qatt ma jasal fuqna), li qatt ma nixtieq li nara lil pajjiżi tant għaziz fih. U minn hemm, iddeċidejt li ridt insir naf iktar fuq pajjiżna kif kien qabel, u qbadt naqra is-serje ta' Herbert Ganado, Rajt Malta Tinbidel.

Fl-ewwel volum ta' Rajt Malta Tinbidel, Ganado jiddiskuti u janalizza is-sitwazzjoni politika ta' pajjiżna fil-bidu tas-seklu għoxrin, u alluwra, bla dubju, ma setgħax iħalli barra din il-kwistjoni poltiika tal-lingwa uffiċjali ta' Malta, jekk hux it-Taljan jew l-Ingliż.

Ganado jiddeskrivi b'mod tajjeb ħafna x'kien qiegħed jiġri f'dak iż-żmien, u wara deskrizzjoni approfondita ta' fiex kienet is-sitwazzjoni, jintefgħa ukoll jiddeskrivi kif kienet qegħedha tiżvolġi fl-iskejjel ta' Malta ta' dak iż-żmien. Jelabora fuq kif kienu ġew Malta żewġ fergħat ta' qassisin Ġiżwiti,  fergħa mil-Ingilterra, u oħra minn Sqallija. Jispjega kif dawn it-tnejn fetħu skejjel f'Malta, u kienu iżommu ma' naħat differenti ta' din il-kwistjoni politika.

Jien, kif forsi tafu, attendejt San Alwiġi f'Birkirkara, li hija skola tal-Ġiżwiti, allura, jien u naqra id-deskrizzjoni tiegħu, ma tistgħux timmaġinaw il-biża' li qabadni ġewwa fija li San Alwiġi, skola li tant tfisser esperjenzi u tifkiriet sbieħ għalija, setgħat kienet imwaqqfa mil-fergħa ta' qassisin Ingliżi li kienu ġew Malta f'dak iż-żmien, u li kienu jiffavorixxu l-Ingliż fuq it-Taljan.

U issa nikkwotalkom lil Ganado nnifsu, "Il-ġlieda politika tal-lingwa kienet bdiet tinħass. L_Arċisqof Mawru Caruana kien ġie edukat g'fak il-kulleġġ fejn kien edukat ukoll ħu missieri, il-Maġġur Alfred Ganado, li għalekk kien ħabib ta' l-Arċisqof Caruana. Kienet l-ewwel ġenerazzjoni Maltija ta' subien li giet influwenzata b'edukazzjoni Ingliża f'Malta. Ftit wara fetaħ il-kulleġġ Sacred Heart, ukoll f'San Giljan, li kellu influwenza enormi fuq l-edukazzjoni Ingliża ta' Malta.Imma fl-1907 il-Giżwiti Ingliżi telqu. U warajhom, il-Ġiżwiti Sqallin fetħu l-kulleġġ ta' Birkirkara."

*Nifs fond.*

*Nifs fond ieħor.*

Għall-erwieħ!

Thursday, July 6

Diametric Opposites

Quickly I made it off the train and to my hostel just behind Hackerbrücke. I desperately needed to dump my luggage and take a shower, as the 32°C heat was absolutely killing me. Yet, no time to spare, as my friends were already waiting at the historic Hofbräuhaus up in the city centre.

For hundreds of years, it was the home city to dukes and duchesses, and kings and queens of Bavaria. Now, it is one of the major technological capitals in the world. With a massively diverse population and beer halls at every corner, Munich is arguably one of the greatest cities on the planet. And it was in Munich's Hofbräuhaus am Platzl, in February 1920, that Adolf Hitler held the first meeting of the NSDAP, the party who in turn will become the German Nazi party and plunge the world into the second world war. 

Fifteen minutes later, and back I was, on the first train I could find that would take me right up to Marienplatz. This was my second trip to the city of Munich, and I had made it a point to get myself a seat and a beer in the historic Hofbräuhaus, especially after the long queue had impeded me from doing so back in February. I read up on my history beforehand, and whilst approaching the building, I couldn't help but imagine how it must have been like all the way back in the '20s - a beer hall originally built for the kings of Munich in the late 16th century, which was then opened to the public in 1828. It was the meeting place of the, back then, NSDAP. It also was the local pub for the first Soviet leader Lenin; and also for Mozart (who lived around the corner from it) around a hundred and fifty years before him.

But the universe is the master of irony, in a good way. Following the mini-scavenger hunt I had to play to find my friends amongst the thousands of people who sit in there everyday, I found them in the central courtyard. As they saying says, when you're in Rome, do as the Romans do, and when you're in Munich, get a maß, and start drinking. And sitting next to me there was this elderly German who was simply enjoying some beer and the biggest pork knuckle I've ever seen.

Conversation quickly ensued, and after the usual niceties of "Where are you from?" and "Is Malta a country? Really?", I couldn't resist by tackling the bull by the horns. And amongst the awkward looks from all over the place, there came my statement of "Ah, so this is the place where Hitler started preaching his ideology right?". And that is when what I was not expecting happened. We talked, for hours, over a few more litres of beer too. 

From Brexit, to the moron in the Oval Office, and the rise in nationalism. The illusion, believed by so many people, the common statements that you hear by the older generations, "You know, it was better when we were worse off" and the subsequent thought that goes with it, "Who's fault is it?". Why do people always have to blame others, typically immigrants, for their own fuck ups in the first place?

Then about Orbán, and Erdoğan, and their systematic breaking down of the democratic institutions in their own countries, and their ever increasing grip on power. I guess it is part of human nature, after all, as John Steinbeck said, "Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power." And why do people keep voting for such autocratic leaders? Do they really not know any better?

We kept discussing all sorts of historical issues, and current affairs. And fascinatingly, the parallels to what had happened in Germany back in the '20s and '30s are never ending. The blaming of the immigrants and Jews during the post-first-world-war-recession, the coup attempts of the 20s in the Weimar Republic, Hitler's ascension to power, and subsequent dissolution of democratic institutions. We've already been through all of this, how can we not learn from our mistakes?

But, what gave us, all of us who were sitting there at that table, the courage to look forward and to know that we will not see those things happen ever again, was the fact that we were there ... two Greeks, two Germans, a Romanian, an American and a Maltese ... all drinking a maß of the best Hofbräu helles together. In the very same place that once was the meeting place for all of those who called for world dominance by an Aryan race, and who eventually committed horrible crimes against humanity itself ... we, irrespective of our nationalities, differences, opinions and ideologies, were there enjoying ourselves and our beer, together. Standing up, for what one might argue that is the diametrically opposite ideology, from that of nearly a hundred years earlier ...

Tuesday, May 2

The Dialogue

I no longer know what I should do, my friend. What is the point of life? What should I do next?

I think it is about time that I start thinking of settling down, you know? Maybe marry. Maybe have kids. Procreate.

So many people emphasise the need of offspring in their life. But, what is the point of having an offspring? What do you want to pass on to it? Your values? Your thoughts and knowledge? Your ambitions? Your genome?
             
I’d say that all of those are by products, aren’t they? They will have their own values, thoughts, knowledge, ambitions and so on. Hopefully, theirs would align to mine, and also be much stronger than mine.

So where does all of this end? Does this train of have a destination? Or will your offspring hope the same things for their offspring, and so will cycle propagate forward?

There is no destination to this train of thought. Think of it as an infinite journey.

Or is there though? I would like to think that there is a destination, and that this destination is death. After all, it is the inevitable truth that will catch up with all of us.

Maybe I got to a stage in my life where I have to face my mortality, whether I like that or not.

Sure. But after your death, people keep on living. Surely the world does not end with your death. Look further into the future following your death, hence the infinite journey.

Fallacy! Cogito ergo sum. That is the proposition of the famous, René Descartes. I think therefore I am. Whatever and whoever is around me, is only true because I can perceive it.

For all I know, the truth is that I am a mad man staring at a wall shouting “I will die” whilst thinking that I am having this conversation. We could both be plugged to the matrix as we speak, thinking we live these crazy lives that we do, but in reality, stuck in a small box with big ass machines “feeding” off the energy produced by your body.

Death, will essentially result in my brain to stop thinking. Therefore, in the same way as I think therefore I am I’d say we can imply that Since I do not think, I am not. And everything else around me is no more, because I can no longer perceive it.

Offspring, progenesis, whatever it is or whatever one wants to call it, realistically it is just a simple illusion. The illusion! The one that hides away the ugly, simple truth that someday, you, me , and all of us, will suddenly cease to be.

Well, one can look at it that way, sure. Then again, it all relies on what one want to do with oneself. We are all bared to die some point or another. You can either stay put and wait for your time to come. Or else, you can do stuff! Anything, really.

And maybe, just maybe, the next generation, including your offspring, might acquire something out of that one might choose to contribute, be it knowledge, thoughts, values, ambitions and the rest.

I have to admit, your argument is extremely compelling. However, there is a flaw to it.

Which is?

Look at me for a second. Let us assume that I do something productive with my life, with the hope to pass it on to the next generation, to my offspring. What if the next generation, including my offspring, are morons? What if they take what will have been given to them, and they throw it away? What if they do not appreciate it? Would it not have been better to spend my life chilling out, with a beer in one hand, and a cigar in the other?

I think this is the bigger question, is it worth it? Is it worth it to produce knowledge and offspring, and then to pass said knowledge, thoughts, ambitions, even genome, to said offspring and the next generation?

To be fair, I am betting that your offspring, not just yours, but even mine, will not be morons. I am willing to bet that they will not throw knowledge away like that.

Isn’t that assumption a bit egotistical though? How can one possibly know? There is a solid possibility that they will be intelligent. But there is also the possibility that they will be utter morons. Or, it might be the case that I will be bad father. Maybe, who knows after all, Trump and Putin will blow up the world by then.

Thinking about it, the issue is not dealing with my own mortality, but with my own humanity. Dealing with the limitations that come along with humanity.

The truth is, I am not happy with the limitations of being human. I want to be god!

And I want to be a kettle, hah!

I could use you to make some tea then, haha!

That is the thing though, I want to be in a position where I have enough knowledge, to make the best decision. But to do that, I need all the information, even that information which I cannot yet obtain, because my limitations as a human being stop me from doing so.

Don’t we all want that? After all, life is a matter of compromise.

And so, I would say that all of this brings us back to square one. I do not have all the information. So if I lack the information and knowledge required to make the best decision, how can I decide on what to do, and if it is worth doing?

 Wasn’t it Winston Churchill who said “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” I guess what he wanted to say is, life is not always plain sailing.

And there it is! My next big fault. My ego might be slightly (and using the words might and slightly over here is an under-assessment of the case) too big to accept failure.

These are the universal questions my good friend. They have no answer, and that is why one never stops to wonder. Maybe the computer was right after all. The answer might be forty-two for all we know. These questions thrill us, mentally, but as you concluded by yourself earlier, they are impossible to resolve, because of the limitations that come along with our existence.

And the cycle repeats, and repeats, and repeats ….


Or, maybe after some point, it doesn’t anymore …